"Is her flat pretty? What did she serve?"
"Chicken salad with aspic—hot biscuits—olives—a cake——"
"Really!"
"Oh, yes. A party."
"Is she happy with her Orville—now that she's waited ten years for him?"
"Yes—at least, she was until this afternoon."
"Until!—Oh, come in here, Lottie. I can't shout at you like——"
Lottie, knitting as she walked, came back into the living room. Charley followed her after a moment; came over to her father, perched herself on a slippery arm of Ole Bull and leaned back, her shoulder against his.
Lottie stood, still knitting. She smiled a little. "Beck Schaefer was on one of her reckless rampages. She teased Celia until Celia cried."
"About what? Teased her about what? Pretty kind of guest, I must say."